For the Love of Quidditch
by princess-wallflower
Summary: Talented Seeker Eloise Wood is certain that she'll be selected as Gryffindor's Qudditch Captain. But when fellow Seventh Year James Potter is selected for the job, Eloise couldn't be more frustrated. Add an archenemy, a lovesick brother, a bad injury, and a possible romance, and it looks like Eloise is in for a rough last year at Hogwarts!
1. Captained By An Acorn

As a Quidditch player, I believe you can tell a lot about a person by just looking at their brooms.

Take my broom, the Pegasus 200, for example. Nice looking, but not flashy. Efficient, good-quality, and gets the job done without a hitch. This might sound self-centered, but if that doesn't describe me, I don't know what does.

Or look at James Potter. He flies a Saturn 450 – flashy, expensive, and incredibly good looking. Perfect for an arrogant, incredibly good-looking prat like himself.

See what I mean?

But nothing about Potter's broom could have prepared me for the shock that arrived by owl a week before my seventh year at Hogwarts began – James Potter was named Gryffindor House Quidditch Captain.

Not me.

"Why does it have to be him, Mum?" I wail, falling back onto the sofa in our living room. The horrid parchment with the words _'__James Potter, Gryffindor Quidditch Captain'_ printed on it in tidy script is still clutched in my hand. "If it wasn't going to be me, couldn't it have been Ananya Patil? She's a Seventh Year. Potter is such an insufferable twat, always boasting about his fancy broom or his Quidditch skills. And now he's captain! Ugh."

My mother, a talented Healer, looks up from the sweater she is knitting. "You have to admit, darling, that James is rather brilliant at Quidditch. He's the best Chaser on the team. And he doesn't seem to get injured as much as a certain someone I know."

She gives me a pointed look, and I huff, exasperated.

"I'm a Seeker, Mum. Getting hurt is practically part of the job." I say, sitting up. "And even if Potter is good at Quidditch, he's got the coaching skills of an… an _acorn_. This year is going to be bloody awful."

"Watch your language, Eloise." my mum says sternly.

"Sorry, Mum." I say, swinging my legs off the couch and standing up. "I think I'll go for a quick fly until Dad gets home. I want to tell him the news first thing."

My mother's face softens. "Don't be too hard on yourself, love. Your father may be disappointed, but both of us are still proud of you, no matter what."

I give her a hug. "Thanks, Mum. I'll be back in a bit."

Still upset at myself and Potter, I leave the house and stare out across the hilly expanse of land we live on, hoping that the view will calm me down. Beautiful scenery 24/7 is one of the perks of my father being Oliver Wood, former all-star player on the Puddlemere United Quidditch team and current coach of the team itself.

And since I have two older brothers and one younger brother, our family lives, eats, sleeps, and breathes Quidditch, myself included. Mum played for Ravenclaw when she was at Hogwarts, so she loves the game as well. And of course Dad loves regaling us with stories of how he led the Gryffindor Quidditch team to winning the Quidditch Cup when he was captain.

So, as you can imagine, my father will be pretty disappointed I'm not captain this year. My two older brothers, Jared and Cyrus, were both captains in their respective Seventh years. And knowing my Fifth Year brother Ricky, who's been a Beater since his third year, he'll be captain eventually. Leave it to me to break that streak.

Trying to push aside my negative thoughts, I wander over to the Quidditch shack (really just a garden shed used for Quidditch equipment) and grab my trusty Pegasus. Thanks to the polish Dad bought me last term, my broom is in perfect condition. But I'm extremely OCD when it comes to Quidditch equipment, (unfortunately I don't feel the same way about my room, which currently resembles a pigsty) so I trim some of the loose twigs and polish it a bit more before mounting and kicking off.

A few seconds later, I'm soaring over my house, which looks rather tiny from way up here. I honestly pity people who don't know how to fly or are too scared – the feeling is unparalleled and the views are superb. After practicing barrell rolls and attempting a Wronski Feint, (I'm getting rather good) I go down a bit lower and fly around the Quidditch pitch Dad built. I'm flying a bit higher to have another go at a Wronski Feint when I see my dad apparate at the front door.

Oh boy. Here goes.

"Oi! Dad!" I call, swooping down to the ground and hopping off my broom. "I've got news."

Dad's face lights up at this. "Are you Quidditch captain?" he asks in his strong Scottish accent, pulling me in for a brief hug before leaning back and looking at me with an expectant smile.

"Er… no." I admit, and my dad's face falls. "James Potter was chosen. That's what I wanted to tell you."

"Well, I'll admit I'm a bit disappointed, but I know you'll still do wonderfully this year." Dad says, pulling me in for another hug. "And James Potter is a nice enough lad. I know his parents quite well. Lovely people, the Potters."

"Not _James_." I insist, wrinkling my nose. "Lily and Al are all right, but James is a twat."

My dad shrugs, opening the front door and gesturing for me to go inside first. "But he's a bloody good Chaser. And he's a smart fellow. Not that I don't think you could be a better captain, but I still think the team will be successful with him running things."

I roll my eyes. "We'll see about that."


	2. In Which I Confront a Bint and a Prat

**Two chapters in one day! Score.**

**Hope you enjoyed the first chapter, here's the second. There's not much James/Eloise action, but there will be in the next chapter. Promise.**

* * *

"Ugh. Why couldn't I have been born with straight hair?" I moan, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My dark brown, incredibly curly hair has escaped its usual ponytail _yet again_, and I'm just about ready to shave all of it off and be bald for the rest of my life.

Even if I am obsessed with Quidditch, I'm still a _girl_. I do care about my looks (sometimes I care a bit too much, I must admit) and I even wear mascara on a regular basis.

But right now, nothing I can do with makeup will make me look _any_ nicer.

I didn't tan at all over the summer, and my numerous freckles stand out against my pale skin. My green eyes have dark circles underneath them from lack of sleep, and I've got a brand-new spot on my forehead. But worst of all are my messy, shoulder-length curls. They honestly look like a rat slept in them.

And I have to be at King's Cross Station in an _hour._

I grab a tube of concealer and dab some under my eyes, hoping to cover up the dark circles. After I look less like a zombie, I pull on a burgundy jumper and a pair of jeans.

"Eloise! We're leaving in five minutes!" my mum yells up the stairs. "Are you almost ready? Ricky's been ready for ages!"

"I'll be just a mo'!" I yell back, frantically running a brush through my unruly hair. I yank my high tops onto my feet and rush down the stairs. There is no way I'm going to be late for my last first day of school. Being a Seventh Year is such a weird feeling.

Shoving my nostalgia aside, I grab my cat, Winifred, and put her into the pet carrier. She stares at me reproachfully, and I sigh. "Sorry, Winnie. You'll have to deal with it if you're coming to Hogwarts with me."

"Oi! Elouise!" Ricky calls from the front door. "Stop talking to the cat and get your arse out here!"

I snort as I grab my rucksack and pet carrier. "Don't swear, Ricky. You don't sound cool." I tell my little brother as I close the door behind me.

Ricky just rolls his eyes. "C'mon, Mum and Dad are waiting."

Dad, who has taken the day off from coaching to see us off, decides that he'd rather drive to the Station than Apparate all of us at once, and it gives him the perfect opportunity to lecture Ricky and me on Quidditch. Not that I mind.

"Eloise, you need to perfect your Wronski Feint if you want to win the Quidditch Cup this year." Dad says, slapping the steering wheel for emphasis. "It's looking good, but it's not good enough, and I'm afraid you might get hurt."

I nod. "Okay."

"And Ricky, when the other team's Seeker has seen the Snitch, beat a Bludger at them. Highly distracting and almost always effective." Mum adds, turning in her seat to smile at us. "I'm going to miss you kids so much!"

"You can come see us at Quidditch games." Ricky says.

"What he's trying to say is 'I'll miss you too, Mum'. He's just too macho to say it." I tease.

"Can it, Eloise." Ricky says, bumping me with his shoulder.

"Hush, both of you." Dad says, eyes still on the road. "We're almost there."

We sit in silence until we arrive at King's Cross Sation, and Mum breaks the silence by saying tearfully, "Promise you'll write, darlings. I'll get Jared and Cy to write you, even if they are busy with Quidditch."

"Promise, Mum." Ricky and I say at the same time, and we all laugh as we pile out of the car.

Once we're on the platform, I look around for my best friend Isabelle. I spot her chatting with Adam and Casey, the Longbottom twins, and I momentarily abandon my family to run over to where they're standing.

"Isa!" I squeal, throwing my arms around my best friend.

"El!" she squeals back, using the nickname she gave me back in our first year of Hogwarts.

We stop hugging and grin at each other. Isa was visiting family in America all summer, so I haven't seen her in a few months. Sending owls is all right, but nothing compares to actually being with your best friend.

"How was America?" I ask.

"_Hot_." Isabelle replies dramatically, tossing her long red hair. "And crowded in some places. But the countryside is nice."

"Cool." I say, grinning. I suddenly remember Adam and Casey, and turn to smile apologetically at them. "Hi Adam, Casey. How was your summer?"  
"Boring." Adam says at the same time as Casey says "Great!" They look at each other, then burst out laughing.

"It was actually really dull." Casey admits, tucking a strand of her short brown hair behind her ear. "Mum and Dad took us on all these magical plant-finding expeditions."

"It was bloody awful." Adam says, shaking his head. "But now Dad's got loads of new information to teach this term."

Neville Longbottom, Adam and Casey's dad, is the professor of Herbology at Hogwarts. He's a really lovely man, but his passion for Herbology sometimes cancels out everything else.

"That sounds terrible. I'm sorry." I say, wincing. I'm about to say more when I see my mom waving to me with an expression that clearly means _Get your arse over here and say goodbye to me or you will not be recieving any owls._

"I'll talk to you later." I say apologetically. "Got to say goodbye to my family and all. Save me a spot on the train, Isa?"

"Of course!" Isabelle says. "Tell your parents I say hello."

Once all of our luggage is loaded onto the train, it's time to say goodbye.

"Remember, Eloise. Wronski Feints and endurance are what you need to work on this year." Dad says, then smiles. "But you're a bloody amazing Quidditch player, so I know you'll do fantastic."

He wraps me in a warm hug, and I hug him back. "I love you, Daddy."

"I love you, too."

Next it's Mum's turn. "Please write, love." she says, kissing my forehead and tucking a dark curl behind my ear. "And I know you'll be busy with Quidditch, but focusing on schoolwork is more important."

Dad snorts, and Mum gives him a look. "_Oliver._"

"Sorry."

She turns back to me and gives me a warm hug. "I love you, darling."

"I love you too, Mum."

After Mum and Dad have said their goodbyes to Ricky, the two of us board the train. I blow a kiss to my parents, and as the train starts to pull out of the station I feel a wave of nostalgia. This is my last time boarding the train to Hogwarts.

"You do realize that we'll be on the train again after Christmas holiday, right?" Ricky says, as if he read my mind.

"Oh, hush. I'm allowed to feel nostalgic, aren't I?" I say, sticking out my tongue at him.

"As long as you don't cry. That would be weird." Ricky says, turning his back to me and going off to find his friends in another part of the train.

What a strange kid.

Now, where to find Isabelle?

I open the nearest train compartment door and jump – Lily, Albus, and James Potter are seated inside, as well as their cousins Fred and Roxanne.

"Eloise!" Roxanne squeals, jumping up to give me a hug. The two of us have never been very close, but we're in the same year, and we'll be in the same dorm together this year.

"Hi, Roxanne." I say, smiling as I give her a hug. "Hi, everyone. I'll catch up with you later – I promised Isabelle I'd sit with her."

James smirks. "You wouldn't rather sit with your Quidditch captain?" he says, gesturing to his polished captain's badge.

The _nerve_ of that boy. Never mind that he trimmed his unruly hair over the summer, and it looks… well, it looks good. Never mind that he's wearing a dark grey t-shirt and blue jeans, and I can see _very _clearly that he's been working out over the summer.

I avert my eyes from his biceps and look him right in the eyes. "I'll pass on that one, thanks. Nice seeing you all."

And with that, I turn on my heel and walk out of the compartment.

Face flushed and heart pounding from that little encounter, I open the next compartment door to see – oh thank Merlin – Isabelle. My good friends and fellow Gryffindors, Amelia Frew and Daisy Parker, are seated in there as well, and they jump up to greet me.

"Eloise!" Amelia cries, almost knocking me over with a huge hug. "How was summer holiday?"

"It was fine." I reply, smiling. "Congratulations on being Head Girl!"

Amelia blushes. "Thanks! I was jumping around the house for days after I found out." She twirls a strand of blonde hair around her finger. "What about you – are you Quidditch captain?"

I groan and sit down next to Daisy. "No. James Potter is."

Daisy puts her arm around me and squeezes my shoulder in a comforting gesture. "I'm sorry to hear that, El."

"Thanks, Daisy. It's good to see you." I say, giving her a hug.

Daisy smiles. "Same to you. Are you at least excited for a fantastic Seventh Year?"

I grin. "Yeah. We need to do something amazing before we leave Hogwarts."

"Agreed!" Isabelle says, bouncing in her seat.

"Well, all right. As long as it's not dangerous or against the rules." Amelia says skeptically, and Isabelle rolls her eyes.  
"Stop being such a little First Year, 'Melia." Isabelle says, leaning back in her seat. "Of _course_ it'll be dangerous and against the rules."

Daisy laughs. "Well, I'm in."

We all stare at her. Daisy has always been shy and quiet, never one to break the rules.

"What?" she asks defensively. "It's my last year. I might as well make it count!"

"Go, Daisy!" Isabelle cheers.

Amelia sighs. "I suppose this means the three of you are going to pressure me into doing something crazy, doesn't it?"

I laugh. "C'mon, 'Melia, it'll be fun. We've got all year to plan it."

"Oh, all right." Amelia sighs. "But if I get my Head Girl title taken away, I'm murdering you all."

"What a splendid idea, Amelia." a cool voice says in the entryway, and the four of us jump. "I'd be happy to help you with that."

And standing in the doorway is Daphne Goyle, Chaser for Slytherin and probably the most evil person I have ever had the bad fortune to know.

"Good to see you, too, Goyle." I say, rolling my eyes.

"Mhhmm." Daphne says. "So I heard that Potter beat you out for Quidditch captain. That's too bad." She gives me a saccharine smile and tosses her silky hair. Honestly, she and Scorpius Malfoy could be twins, with their pale skin and impossibly blonde hair.

I grit my teeth and stand up. "He didn't beat me out. He was chosen. And anyway, _Goyle_, you shouldn't be acting so high and mighty. I don't see _you_ wearing a captain's badge."

Daphne smiles coyly. "Oh, _that_? It's in my rucksack. I took it off to polish it and forgot to put it back on."

I can only gape openly. _Daphne Goyle is the Slytherin Quidditch Captain?_ "You're lying." I finally manage to say, but the smug look on Daphne's face tells me otherwise.

She throws her head back and laughs. "Oh, Eloise. You're funny. Too bad you're a twit and a Gryffindor – if you weren't, maybe I'd like you."

And with that, she struts out of the compartment.

Isabelle narrows her eyes. "That little… little…"

Well, this is odd. I've never seen Isabelle speechless before.

"She's such a _Slytherin_." Amelia says, spitting out the word "Slytherin" so venemously I take a step back. "I'm going to take five points from Slytherin because of that."

I give her a hug. "Thanks, Amelia. You're the best."

Amelia laughs. "Who knew being Head Girl could be so fun?"

We spend the rest of the train ride to Hogwarts eating Chocolate Frogs and reading muggle gossip magazines that Daisy (who is muggleborn) brought. We're laughing hysterically about a celebrity's crazy hair when there's a shout from another compartment.

"Hogwarts up ahead!"

I lunge for the window to catch a glimpse of a sight I haven't seen in what seems like ages – the Hogwarts castle standing tall above the lake, evening fog clouding the highest turrets.

Isabelle joins me at the window and wraps an arm around my shoulders. "Look," she says, smiling. "We're home."


	3. I DO NOT FANCY JAMES POTTER

a/n: I know it seems rather pointless to keep updating despite the fact that I have NO reviews. I doubt anyone has actually read this story.

But it's extremely enjoyable to write, so I'm going to keep updating anyways. If you're reading this, I love you! Please try and leave a review. I know it's a nuisance but I'd really appreciate it.

and without further ado, here's chapter three!

* * *

James Potter sits next to me during the Sorting Ceremony.

And it's not like there aren't any seats left, either. Isabelle is on my left, and as I start to wave Daisy over, Potter casually plops down in the seat to my right and gives me a smirk.

"Is this seat taken?" he asks as McGonagall makes her standard welcome speech. He's still got that infernal smirk plastered on his face, and I'm highly tempted to find a cliff and push him off of it.

I shrug. "Well, it certainly is now, isn't it?"

Potter's smirk falters. He hates it when he can't illicit a reaction from me. He's opening his mouth, probably to say something idiotic, when the first name is called to be sorted.

"Adams, Gertie!"

I watch as tiny little thing with pigtails practically climbs onto the stool and puts the Sorting Hat on her head.

There's a long pause, and Isabelle murmurs, "She's a Hufflepuff for sure."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Isabelle turns to me, wide-eyed, as our table erupts with cheers. Gertie is beaming with pride, and I can't help but smile as she finds a seat at our table.

Potter gives me an irritating grin. "Remember how long it took for you to be Sorted?"

I glare at him. I don't like to be reminded of the time when, at my Sorting Ceremony, the Sorting Hat took a solid two minutes to decide I belonged in Gryffindor.

"Remember all those times you were showing off on your broom and you fell?" I retort in an angry whisper.

Potter scoffs. "Oh, like that hasn't happened to you."

"Back when I was a Third Year, yes. It did happen." I hiss, giving him the dirtiest look possible. "But not _last year_, unlike a certain someone I know."

Potter's face almost matches the crimson of his Gryffindor tie. "I'll have you know–"

"Woah there, you two." Fred Weasley, who is sitting across from James, whispers. He's grinning from ear to ear. "You might want to tone down on the sexual tension. There are First Years at the table."

"Shut _up_, Fred." Potter and I hiss at the same time, the intensity of our glares directed at Fred now.

He holds up his hands in a 'don't shoot' kind of gesture. "Calm yourselves, ladies and gentlemen. I was just kidding."

"SLYTHERIN!"

Argument momentarily forgotten, I watch in fascination as the first new Slytherin of the year swaggers over to the cheering Slytherin table. She's tall for eleven, and has white-blonde hair and pale skin. "Is she a _Malfoy_?" I ask, wrinkling my nose.

Isabelle laughs. "No, that's Daphne's sister Hortensia."

"Even worse than a Malfoy - a mini Daphne." I say in horror.

"And _Hortensia_?" Roxanne, who is sitting across from me, adds. "What a name."

"Shhh." Fred says. "This bloke looks like a Gryffindor."

And sure enough, 'Grier, Stephen' becomes the second Gryffindor of the night.

After all the newcomers are Sorted, we all dig into the amazing food the House Elves have prepared. As I eat, I chat happily with Roxanne, Isabelle, Rose Weasley, and even Fred, but I pointedly ignore Potter.

Unfortunately, ignoring someone is slightly difficult when they're seated right next to you. _Especially when the's telling Fred about being Quidditch captain._

"Mum and Dad were super excited when we found out." he's saying, running a hand through his messy hair. "Mum made jam tarts three times in one week. It was awesome."

Fred groans. "Sweet Merlin. Your mum makes the best jam tarts ever."

Roxanne and Rose are also gushing over Potter's mum's tarts when a Seventh Year Hufflepuff, Susannah Brown, sidles up to the table.

"I just wanted to congatulate you on being Gryffindor Quidditch captain, James." she purrs, flashing a beautiful smile as she tosses her long brown hair. "You deserve it."

Potter smiles back. "Thanks, Susannah."

As the two of them chat, I violently stab a piece of mutton with my fork. Isabelle puts a comforting hand on my shoulder. "She's just a slag hoping that James will like her because she complimented him. Don't listen to her." she whispers in my ear. I shrug a shoulder, still staring at my plate.

After Susannah leaves, Fred raises an eyebrow at Potter. "So how long have you two been shagging, huh?"

"We haven't. Yet." Potter says, smirking.

For some reason, this makes me stab my meat even harder.

Rose looks at me with wide eyes. "Merlin, Eloise – what did your mutton ever do to you?"

xXxXx

"So, you were acting a bit off at dinner." Isabelle says casually as we enter the Gryffindor common room after dinner.

"What do you mean?" I ask, giving my best friend a look.

Isabelle sinks down onto a couch and sighs. "First of all, you and James Potter looked like you were either going to start fighting or start snogging. I can't decide."

"Gross!" I exclaim, wrinkling my nose. "Why would you _ever_ say that?"

Isabelle just shrugs. "Fred was right. There was a lot of sexual tension going on between the two of you." She holds up her hand when I try to protest. "But that's not my point. You were also acting really weird when Susannah was talking to James – you seemed…"

"What?" I ask, folding my arms. "I seemed what?"

"Jealous." Isabelle says, looking me in the eyes.

"Well, yeah." I say. "Susannah was rubbing Potter's captaincy in my face. Of course I was jealous."

Isabelle sighs, frustrated. "No, no. That's not what I meant. I meant you seemed jealous when James was suggesting that he and Susannah are gonna – you know."

I stare at Isabelle, confused. "What are you trying to say?"

She grins. "You're jealous of Susannah because you fancy James Potter."

Okay, what? Sure, Potter may be incredibly fit and amazing at Quidditch, but he's utterly obnoxious.

"You're delusional." I scoff. "First of all, I can't stand him. Second of all, if the two of them were shagging in the middle of the common room, _I wouldn't care_."

Isabelle sighs. "If you say so."

"Oi! Wood!"

I turn around to see Fred Weasley entering the common room. He's grinning from ear to ear.

"Hi, Fred." I say cautiously.

"D'you fancy James?" Fred asks. _Get right to the point, why don't you?_

"Why does everyone think that?" I groan, sitting down next to Isabelle.

"Not everyone does." Isabelle says, patting me on the shoulder. "Only the smart people."

"I don't fancy James. At all!" I protest. "Seriously. I couldn't care less about him."

Fred and Isabelle look disappointed.  
"You sure?" Fred asks.

"Yes." I say, standing up. "Good night."

I storm up the steps to the Seventh Year dormitory. Okay, I can understand Fred being weird about me and James – he's _Fred Weasley_, after all – but why Isabelle? She's my best friend, and she should know me better.

I enter the dormitory to see Daisy, Roxanne, and Amelia sitting on the floor, talking. Their conversation stops abruptly when they see me. "Oh – hi, Eloise!" Daisy squeaks nervously.

"Um… what's going on?" I ask, folding my arms.

"Oh, look at the time." Amelia says, looking at the clock on the wall. "I have to do my rounds, since I'm Head Girl and all. Bye!"

And with that, she bolts from the room.

I look back and forth between Daisy and Roxanne. "I'm serious." I say slowly. "What's. Going. On?"

Roxanne sighs. "We were just talking about how… um… we think you fancy James."

I flop onto my bed, bury my face in my pillow, and scream.

"I take it that means you don't?" Daisy says timidly, scratching the back of her head.

"No! I don't!" I say, exasperated. "First Isabelle, then Fred, now you three? Why does everyone think I like James Potter? _He's bloody James Potter_!"

Roxanne shrugs. "Well, on the train, when you entered the compartment, you couldn't keep your eyes off of him."

"I was staring at his captain's badge.!" I cry. "I'm jealous that he's Quidditch captain! That's why I've been picking those fights with him – I'm mad that he's captain and I'm not! Okay? Everyone happy?"

Roxanne and Daisy have stricken looks on their faces, but they're not looking at me. They're looking at the doorway.

"Is this a bad time?" a male voice says, and I gasp.

_No. This cannot be happening._

I turn to see James Potter in the doorway, a strange look on his face. "I just wanted to tell you we have Quidditch practice first thing tomorrow morning, Eloise." he says, looking at the ground.

I stare at him with wide eyes. "Oh. Um… thanks."

James nods slowly and makes eye contact with me. "No problem. 'Night, everyone."

"Goodnight, James." Roxanne and Daisy say, but I stay silent. With one final look at me, James leaves.

"Did that actually just happen?" I whisper, mortified.

Roxanne nods. "Uh, yes. Yes it did."

"I think I'm going to kill myself now." I say, flopping back on my bed and putting my head in my hands.

Isabelle walks in the room. "I just saw James Potter leave here with a weird look on his face. What did I miss?"

Daisy gestures to me, but I grab the bed curtains and draw them closed. "I don't want to talk to you right now." I say, voice muffled by my pillow.

"She's contemplating suicide." Roxanne says, as if that will clear everything right up.

"What?" Isabelle shrieks.

"She's not being serious, Isa." Daisy says soothingly. "Eloise is just upset that everyone thinks she fancies James."

"Ohhhhhh." Isabelle says knowingly. "That's why James looked so upset?"

"Probably." Roxanne agrees, and I fling open the curtains and poke my head out. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?" I ask, and my three friends exchange knowing smiles.

"Nothing." they chorus.

I throw pillows at all of them, holler "I don't want to talk about it, so bugger off!", close my curtains abruptly, and then I feel much better.

Oh, it's good to be back.


	4. I Royally Mess Up Everything

**a/n: this chapter is dedicated to DarkGarnetRose, cinnamonstarbarks, xXMizz Alec VolturiXx, and Guest, because they wrote such great reviews! they mean a lot. **

**I'm not thrilled with this chapter. if you happen to like it (or even if you don't) I would love to hear some feedback in the REVIEWS! I know they're annoying to write, but it's helpful for me as a writer and will motivate me to update faster!**

* * *

I wake up to the sound of Amelia snoring.

I roll over and check the clock on my bedside table – it's 5:43 in the morning. Since I woke up two minutes before my alarm is supposed to ring, I go ahead and hit the "Alarm Off" button and get out of bed.

I pull on a sports bra, running shorts, and my Quidditch jersey. (My actual Quidditch robes are in the changing rooms down on the pitch, but I only wear those for matches.) I yank my hair into a ponytail, put on my trainers, and head for the pitch.

When I arrive, I notice with satisfaction that I'm the first one there. _Take that, Potter._ Being early is a lovely feeling.

Remembering Dad's advice on stamina, I start jogging around the pitch. I used to go running quite frequently during Sixth Year, but I slacked off during summer holiday. So it feels great to start running again.

I'm on my third lap when I see a certain tall, dark-haired boy walk onto the pitch.

Potter.

I wave cheekily at him as I finish my lap and run up next to him. "Hi there." I say. "Decided to go for a quick run while I waited for you to arrive."  
Potter looks frustrated, but doesn't say anything as he walks into the Gryffindor locker rooms and sits down on a bench.

I sit down across from him and stretch my arms over my head. "So what are your plans for the trials?" I ask.

Potter just stares at me blankly.

"What's wrong with you? Giving me the silent treatment, are you?" I ask, wrinkling my nose. Suddenly I remember the events of last night, and I freeze.

_"__I was staring at his captain's badge.! I'm jealous that he's Quidditch captain! That's why I've been picking those fights with him – I'm mad that he's captain and I'm not! Okay? Everyone happy?" _

Well, damn.

Potter shakes his head in an annoyed way, like he's trying to get water out of his ears. "No, no. It's just, um – never mind. What was your question again?"

I give him a look. "What. Are. Your. Plans. For. The. Trials?" I ask again, speaking slowly as if I'm talking to a child.

"We need a new Chaser to replace Callahan, and a new Beater to replace McDonald." Potter says, giving me an irritated look.

I nod. Alia Callahan was the Gryffindor captain last year, but she graduated and works at St. Mungo's now. And Evan McDonald, who was a Beater, graduated to play on the reserves for the Chudley Cannons. Rubbish team, if you ask me, but I'm sort of biased because my family _lives_ for Puddlemere.

I'm trying to decide whether or not I should apologize for last night when one of our Beaters, Ananya Patil, bursts into the locker rooms. "Hello, you two!" she says, grinning. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything _important_."

I frown. "Yeah, I don't think so." I say, standing up to give her a hug. "It's so good to see you!"

Ananya hugs me back. "I can't believe we're actually Seventh Years! We're going to have so much fun together this year!"

Potter coughs. "Hello to you, too." he says, sounding slightly ticked off.  
Ha.

Ananya stops hugging me and ruffles Potter's hair affectionately. "Hiya, Jimmy. Good to see you."

"Jimmy?" Potter splutters indignantly as I start laughing. "You better not call me that, ever again."

Ananya grins. "Why ever not? It's a nickname for James." she says, ruffling his hair again.

"I'm your captain." Potter says, glaring at the two of us, who are giggling. "Besides, Jimmy is a dumb name."

"Oi! I resent that." Brian Hoffman, Gryffindor's Keeper, says as he enters the locker room. "My dad's name is Jimmy."

This sends Ananya and me into another round of full-blown laughter.

"Poor him, then." Potter mutters, ears red, and even Brian can't help but laugh.

The three of us are still laughing when Ricky, our only Beater at the moment and my very own little brother, walks into the locker room.

He looks confused. "What are you all cackling about, then?"

We start laughing again. We're such a crazy bunch. Well, except for Potter, who looks ticked.

"Nothing, nothing." I say, fighting for breath. "Captain Jimmy over here was just about to go over the schedule for today. Weren't you, Cap?"

Ananya falls to the ground laughing. Brian slumps against the lockers and wipes away tears of laughter.

Potter glares.

I hold up my hands, smiling. "Sorry, sorry." I'm totally not sorry.

Potter stands up, looking annoyed. "Okay, everyone. As you all know, Callahan and McDonald have graduated, leaving a Chaser position and a Beater position open. Trials will be held in about an hour, but first I want to go over the procedure."

His serious expression melts away, and he grins. "I want the best team possible this year. We're going to win that Quidditch Cup if it kills us."

-line-

"Sodding hell." I breathe, staring at the cluster of Gryffindors in the middle of the Quidditch pitch. "Do they _all _want to join the team?"

Ananya pulls a disgusted face. "Nah. Half the girls are prob'ly all here to ogle at our friend Jimmy over here." she says, gesturing to where Potter is standing, discussing the trials with Brian.

"Blech." I agree. Why would anyone prefer _Potter _over being on the Quidditch team? I mean, he's fit, but Quidditch is just so much more… amazing.

Potter suddenly claps his hands together and yells loudly. "All right! I would like everyone who is not here to play Quidditch to leave the pitch!"

Ananya was right – half the girls standing in the crowd of hopefuls depart slowly, with longing looks at Potter and lots of giggling.

Ugh.

"Great." Potter says, rubbing his hands together eagerly. "Everyone who actually wants to try out, please fly five laps around the pitch."

There's a quick pause, and then a mad rush as all twenty-or-so people try to mount their brooms and kick off at once. I notice that Potter's sister, Lily, is the first to get up in the air and start flying.

I glance over and see a look of pride on Potter's face. Smiling a little, I turn back to watch the fliers.

Lily's very good, for a Fifth Year. She flies ahead of the rest, her turns are clean and precise, and her posture on the broom is impeccable. A Sixth Year – I think her name is Kate? – is also very good. She's almost caught up with Lily.

After everyone finishes their laps, Potter kindly but firmly tells five girls and two boys – the slow fliers – that they can leave. Fifteen people are left.

Potter claps his hands together again. "Okay. Everyone who wants to be a Chaser, go with Hoffman and Patil." he says, and seven people join Brian and Ananya at the left side of the pitch. Lily is included in that group, I notice.

Potter looks at the eight people remaining. "Everyone who is left is trying out for Beater, yeah?"

One girl, a bratty Fifth Year named Hannah, pipes up. "I didn't come here to be a bloody Beater. I want to be a Seeker."

Honestly, that girl should have been a Slytherin.

Potter looks at me, and I step forwards. "Sorry, love," I say, giving Hannah a fake smile. "But we don't need a Seeker. That's what I'm here for."

She sniffs. "Please. We all know the real reason you're on the team is because you and James Potter are shagging."

My jaw drops. "_Excuse me?_"

Hannah smirks. "Oh, come on. Like it's not true."

"It's _not_." I say angrily, stepping closer to her with what I hope is a threatening look on my face. "Get off the pitch. _Now_."

Without saying another word, Hannah tosses her brown hair and flounces off the pitch, dragging her broom behind her.

I turn abruptly to look at Potter, who looks shocked and angry. Face flaming with anger, I manage to spit out, "I'll be back in a minute."

Potter nods wordlessly, and I storm over to the locker rooms.

"Stupid bint." I growl to no one, peeling off my sweaty kit and slumping onto a bench. I can't believe people are so convinced that Potter and I are – what? An item? I've hated Potter since Fourth Year when he told me I didn't deserve to be Seeker. He's a bloody bastard, and he can't take a joke at his own expense, and I just _hate_ him!

I'm swiping furiously at the tears of frustration leaking out of my eyes when the door to the locker room opens and Potter enters.  
He nods in greeting, and I nod back, uncomfortably aware that I'm only wearing running shorts and a sports bra. "Potter."

"Wood." he replies. "Could you come back outside? I need you to be an obstacle for the Beaters."

Stupid unsympathetic git. "What? No apology for making me deal with that bitch?" I snap, grabbing my jersey and pulling back over my head. "You're the captain - you deal with the prats."

"I thought _you_ wanted to be captain." Potter sneers. "At least, that's what you said last night."

"I was tired and angry, okay?" I reply, standing up angrily. "Can we just forget it?"

Potter folds his arms, face turning red with frustration. "You seem to forget that I wanted to be captain as much as you! I earned this, and all you can do is mope about it and tell everyone how much you hate me!"

"_Because I do hate you_!" I yell.

Potter freezes, his face stricken. I clap my hand over my mouth. That was _not_ a good thing to say to my captain.

"I…. look, I'm really–" I start to apologize, but Potter waves a hand at me.

"Just… go out there and work with the Beaters, okay?" he asks quietly, sounding resigned.

"Okay." I reply, voice small.

As I walk past him to exit the locker room, I stare at the ground in shock.

_What have I done?_


	5. Tea, the Earth After Rain, and Quidditch

**a/n: yet again, thanks to cinnamonstarbarks, DarkGarnetRose, and Guest for reviews! I love you all.**

**sorry, but this chapter is really just a plot device. trying to move things along here. thanks for reading, and please leave a review!**

* * *

"Is everything okay?" Daisy asks me later that day as she stirs powdered Gryffin claw into her potion.

After dodging the constant Bludgers that were whacked at me by potential Beaters for what seemed like ages, constantly avoiding Potter's eye the whole time, and finally getting whacked in the shin by Kate O'Flannery's bludger, I can hardly describe myself as _okay_. Especially after I just told my captain that I hate him. My only condolence is the fact that our two new team members are girls - Kate is our Beater and Lily is our Chaser.

But I just nod, avoiding Daisy's eyes. "Everything's just dandy." I reply, carefully sifting my own powdered claw into my cauldron. "Absolutely fantastic."

"Uh-huh." Daisy says, unconvinced. "And that would explain why you moped through all of Transfiguration, Arithmancy, _and_ Ancient Runes?"

"I don't mope." I protest as I peer at the next step of instructions. "_Mince the newt spleen? _Yuck."

"Stop avoiding the question." Daisy grumbles, slicing the tiny organ on her cutting board with chef-like precision. "Does it have to do with Quidditch trials this morning?"

I frown. "How did you know?"

Daisy smiles in satisfaction. "You have your 'Potter's a twat' face on."

"Don't I always?" I sigh, scraping the minced newt spleen off my cutting board and into my bubbling mixture. The potion's surface instantly develops a pearly sheen, and curls of smoke rise from the cauldron.

"Well done, Miss Wood!"

I jump and turn to see Professor Slughorn standing behind me, a big smile on his face.

"You're the first student to make the potion correctly today. Do you know what it is?"

The rest of the class turns to look at my cauldron in curiosity, and I stare at the mixture in front of me. Pearly sheen, dramatically curling smoke – all this sounds awfully familiar.

Slughorn must see the look of almost-comprehension on my face, because he says, "Take a whiff, Miss Wood."

Confused, I lean over the cauldron and breathe in.

"Amortentia." I breathe as the most wonderful smells in the world overwhelm my senses.

Slughorn looks ridiculously pleased. "Correct!" he praises, turning to look at the class. "What you all are making, and what Miss Wood has already made, is Amortentia – the most powerful love potion in the world. Of course, the term 'love potion' is rather incorrect. 'Infatuation potion' is much more correct, but it doesn't have the same ring to it, now does it?"

He chuckles at his own joke. "Care to tell the class what the potion smells like?"

"Well, I smelled tea, the earth after rain, and Quidditch shops." I say, slightly embarrassed. "But the potion smells different to everyone, based on what they find most attractive."

Slughorn is practically bouncing up and down with glee by now. "Very good! When the potion is consumed, the drinker develops an extreme infatuation or obsession with the first person they lay eyes on. However, the potion must be administered regularly, or else the potion will wear off, as well as the infatuation. Now, everyone finish brewing. Your assignment tonight is to identify and write one page on what the potion smells like to you!"

The rest of the class turns back to their cauldrons, and Slughorn puts a hand on my shoulder. "You're very talented at potions, Miss Wood." he says, giving me a big smile. "I would be most honored if you would be part of the Slug Club, or at least attend to some of my parties. It's a fabulous opportunity, you know, and I can see you as a very accomplished Healer."

I give him a stiff smile. "Thank you, sir, but I'm going to be a Quidditch player. Preferrably for Puddlemere."

Slughorn doesn't seem to be offended at all. "Of course! I forgot – your father is the Puddlemere coach, is he not?"

"And was a Chaser on the team for nine years." I say, not bothering to conceal my pride.

"Even more reason for you to join the Slug Club!" Slughorn says, as if it's final. "I'll see you at the party next weekend."

And with that, he walks back to his desk.

Daisy, who's been in the Slug Club since Fifth Year, smiles at me. "Didn't give you much choice, did he?"

I laugh and shrug my shoulders. "I don't mind. Sounds like fun."

Daisy nods. "Amelia's a member, naturally, her being Head Girl and all. Now all we have to do is get Isabelle to join, and it'll be even more fun!"

Smiling at that happy thought, Daisy finishes her potion and takes a whiff. "Oh," she breathes. "That's lovely."

"What does it smell like?" I ask, curious.

Daisy takes another deep breath. "Mmm. Strawberry pie and sunscreen and ink."

"Lovely." I agree, laughing at the happy expression on her face. "C'mon. Help me clean this up."

"Wha'?" Daisy asks, snapping out of her haze.

"I said," I reply slowly, "Help me clean up the bits of leftover newt spleen."

Daisy laughs. "Yuck."

Amen.

…

"The Slug Club, huh?" a male voice asks me in the hallway after Potions. Sighing, I turn to see James Potter walking next to me.

Daisy, who is walking on my other side, stops. "Er… I think I left something in the classroom. Bye!"

And with that, she's hurrying down the hallway to the dungeons.

Oh, thanks, Daisy. Leaving me alone with _James Potter. _If that's not a recipe for disaster, I don't know what is.

"What do you want?" I ask Potter, frowning.

"I was just wondering if you were invited to the Slug Club." he replies evenly.

"What business is it of yours, Potter?" I snap, looking straight ahead.

Potter stops walking and puts a hand on my shoulder. I flinch, but he keeps a firm grip. "Listen, Wood." he says softly, turning me to face him. "I don't know what I did to make you hate me, and I don't really _want_ to know. But I don't think it'll do the team any good to have rival teammates. Could we just… I dunno, try to be friends?"

I stare into his green eyes and swallow hard.

"We can try."


End file.
